Lullaby
by Juneychan
Summary: The only demon she should ever have to face is him. And he would do anything to keep the others away.
1. Prelude

_**A/N: Trigger warning**_

 _ **The characters belong to DC comics and WB studio**_

 _ **Song: Hell Is for Children - Pat Benatar.**_

 _._

 _"They cry in the dark_  
 _So you can't see their tears_  
 _They hide in the light_  
 _So you can't see their fears."_

.

There was a sound of clapping hands and through her closed lids, she could see the lights being switched on.

"Are you in there, doc?" The Joker said smoothly.

"Yes, Mr. J." She answered. Her voice hoarse, lips trembling slightly. Slowly she opened her eyes, trying to get use to her own body and taking in her surroundings. The room was only dimly lit. But to her, it was the brightest she'd been since forever.

At first the room could pass as a standard office. The windows closed with black blinds. It had white walls with paintings framed along the walls. They looked like they'd been done by children but the ideas were anything but innocent. She was sitting on a sofa, around her were some stuffed animals. The two cross-eyed hyenas caught her attention.

She knew he was standing in the corner but she dared not look his way. He strode towards her and she felt the all too familiar pressure crashing back. Fear, excitement, curiosity,...

Love.

"Relax." The Joker stood into the light, only a step away from her. "It's been so long." He gave the warmest smile and her heart fluttered. "I'm just checking on ya."

"I-I thought you wanted me gone, mistah J." Not meeting his gaze, she whispered sadly.

Me - as in Dr. Harleen Quinzel.

"No, no." He said quickly and sat himself next to her. His arm on the back of the sofa behind her and Harleen held back the urge to lean into him. She fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, noticing how short they were. The tattoos on her thighs reflecting her love for the Joker on full display.

His other hand gently lifted her chin and tilted her face to look at him. It was unavoidable. Harleen immediately melted and got lost in those steel-blue orbs, just like when they first met.

"I did say I lived for these moments with you, didn't I?" The Joker cooed and she couldn't help but smiled. "You, are the mother to our dear Harley Quinn. I couldn't cast you away even if I wanted to. And believe me I've tried." He chuckled. His thumb slightly brushed her bottom lip.

"Mistah J I..." Harleen turned to jelly. She felt her heart bursting and tears stung at the corner of her eyes. "I love you!" She blurted out the first (and only thing) in her mind.

"I know." He said bluntly. It was as obvious as saying Batman wore black.

"Anywho today I wanna talk about YOU!" Joker leaned in closer. His lips inches from her.

His scent just as she remembered. Faint alluring cologne mixed with gun powder and blood. Didn't matter none or how many lives he had taken that day the blood on him always smelled the same. Just enough to be his signature amount of danger and charm (to her at least).

Harleen's eyes drifted downwards. His dark purple tie hung loosely around his neck. His white shirt had 3 buttons down and his tattooed chest was teasing her. She wanted to slip her hands in and...

"Focus, doctor." He snapped his fingers, sounded a little annoyed.

"Yes, I'm sorry. Anything you want. I mean yeah!" Harleen blushed furiously, pushing up her non-existed glasses.

The Joker grinned his signature one and Harleen's breath hitched in her throat.

"Let's talk about your father."

.

They hadn't said a word to each other all day.

Joker was just sitting at the table going through some folders of papers and occasionally checking his phone. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, she stared at him from the corner of her eyes, her romance novel still in hands. He was humming some random tune, looking just casual and relaxed but Harley knew better.

Deep down, a storm was coming.

And she couldn't predict, not at all when and how it would hit.

Harley took a heavy breath. She couldn't stand the silence though she had been the one who initiated it. Again she tried to focus back on her novel. The two main characters were just about to get married and live happily ever after. She flipped the page, the story went on with suddenly one of the guests stood up and exposing the bride as a fraud. She slammed the book shut angrily and fell down on her back.

"That's bullshit." Harley growled.

"That's what I always think about those novels of yours, toots." Joker said flatly.

He lifted his head from the papers, she glared at him for a second and continued staring at the ceiling.

"She was lying! I know she was! She just wanted to get out, whining her way out to get your attention mistah J." Harley put an arm over her eyes, trying to keep calm and focus on a happy place.

She cursed silently towards her old personality. After all these time that boring, pathetic woman still lurked around and tried to screw up her joy. It sounded crazy (haha...) since Harley didn't have total separated personalities who couldn't remember what others did. They were all her. But Dr. Harleen Quinzel remained the most quiet, casted away the furthest but stayed the longest of all. Harley had thought she killed that part along with most memories of her old life the moment she emerged from the acid bath and had her first real laugh with the Joker.

But no, the righteous doctor would show up now and then in her vulnerable moments like when she slept or just was going through a round of mental break down. Harleen would chime in all crying and mumbling past traumas. Seriously, she should just get over them.

Whatever they were.

"She never lies to me." Joker said, almost too gentle.

Harley threw a pillow at him but he caught it and simply cushioned it behind his back.

"This is stupid Puddin'!" Harley smiled weakly. "Forget it!"

"What are you afraid of?" He asked solemnly and Harley froze.

 _Why do you keep haunting me..._

 _I'm not longer who I used to be._

Harleen was a part of her that stored memories, mostly painful ones of the old life she'd left far behind.

"I'm not." Harley hated how weak her voice sounded, it was hard to keep the corner of her mouth up now.

Joker walked to the bed and sat down next to her. He looked deep in her baby blues, fingers playing with strands of her hair absentmindedly. His expression couldn't be read.

When the back of his hand stroke her cheek gently, Harley squinted her eyes shut and her heart somehow throbbed painfully in her chest.

" **What** are you afraid of?" Gravelly he asked again.

She almost heard Harleen's faint sobs.

.

"He was supposed to be dead."

"So we thought." Joker nodded. Seeing how her body begun to shake he draped the arm he had put behind her back around her. Harleen relaxed a bit into him. "But the man we saw tonight was strolling around doing pretty fine ain't he?"

She turned her head away from him but he grabbed her chin to keep her in place. He'd wanted to go to the bottom of this out of curiosity and a possible fun time, paying Dr. Quinzel's family a nice visit and all. But then, Joker remembered all the bits and pieces of childhood events Harley'd let slipped then and now, and seeing her vulnerable self sinking down with pain in front of him, he'd made up his mind.

Made up his mind to do what exactly, he wasn't sure. But something deep inside told him he had to do something, for her.

"I have my speculations, doc, gathered from all this time. But I've never been quite sure how deep the cut actually is. So will you give lil old me a hand?" Joker flashed his silver grinned, but his gaze was anything but comedy.

"I-I..." Harleen stammered.

"What did your father do to you?" The command was clear in his voice.

One tear after another fell as she told him the truth...

.

 _"Hell, hell is for children_  
 _And you shouldn't have to pay for your love_  
 _With your bones and your flesh."_

.

 _A/N: Leave your guesses and feedbacks. I promise a clear Gotham-style sky after the storm._


	2. Verse

.

 **A/N: Trigger warning: death, rape/non con, abuse, suicidal** _ **thoughts**_

 _ **I did try to make it the least painful as possible for all of us.**_

 _ **Song: Eva - Nightwish**_

.

.

It took exactly one day, for her little family to come crashing and burning and before she knew it she was at a funeral for two, crying her lungs out.

Her father stood silently beside her, no tears, almost no breath, like he wasn't there at all. She pushed away the feeling that she was losing him too.

Her family wasn't perfect. But she knew her parents had done the best they could to get by in this city of crimes.

Her father - Nick Quinzel hadn't been doing very well at work. So from what she understood, he'd traded it for another job. One that kept him coming home late reeked of alcohol and sometimes metal and smoke. Not cigarettes, it was a lot of something burning, but she couldn't quite tell.

They'd been doing the best they could, loved her with all they had. So she kept on smiling and being a good girl she'd always been.

One day, came the news of another member coming to join their little family.

She would have been a great sister to her unborn brother.

Until another day, she'd come home from school seeing the police cars and ambulance outside their house. Her mother - at her sixth month of pregnancy - being rushed to the hospital, and her father questioning by the cops.

That day, she had lost both her mother and brother.

 _'In loving memory of Sharon Quinzel and Barry Quinzel, cherished and remembered always.'_

Of course, but how to carry on their memories was different for both her and her father.

.

Harleen Quinzel was a good girl.

She was simply good at being good. She was no angel, but she knew this world was already full of demons she couldn't compete with.

Harleen was compassionate and blessed with the gift of empathy and mental depth beyond her age. She was quick to understand people and what kept them happy. She had fire in her, but she knew how to keep it at bay.

Harleen was born to please, her father had once said.

So she knew if there was a time to be strong, and be good, it was then.

Harleen carried on and on with life. She laughed and smiled again when she should and she cried when no one was around. She made sure she stayed away and respect father's business because he was doing everything for her sake. After all that had happened, he'd promise her things would be different and by default she trusted him still.

She loved him. Because in the end it was all she could do.

Harleen was a good girl.

Almost too good for her own good.

.

Everyday Gotham grew worse and worse. Especially since the death of the Waynes a few years back. And along with that her father was hardly ever home. Each time he did come home, though, he slowly became another person, and that other person changed to another until Harleen could hardly recognize her father anymore.

"I love you so much." - He said every time he saw her.

Harleen would say it back. But something wasn't right.

He was gentle and loving towards her still. But lately, there was a particular look in his eyes and touches that sent cold shivers down her spine, her stomach turned.

She told herself father was going through a tough time and she was just getting paranoid.

She brushed it all off, she ignored the signs. Ignored the way his hands ran up and down her body in inappropriate and chilling ways, ignored the times she caught him trying to catch her take a bath or change her clothes...

Or the times he told her she looked just like her mother and that made him want to love her even more.

She ignored her brain screaming for her to run far away.

Harleen knew in her guts something, if not everything was wrong. She should tell the police, child services, her neighbors, anyone...But she couldn't, because her father was all she had left...

She was, after all, a good girl.

.

 _"For a memory of one kind word_

 _She would stay among the beasts."_

 _._

It was too late.

It was too late to regret and too late to blame.

One night Harleen's father came home stumbling on his own vomit and pieces of broken bottles. Pills and drugs she couldn't name spilled out from his hands and his mouth. He wailed her mother's name and cursed and smashed everything in his reach. The neighbors knew enough about him to do anything about the commotions.

When her father turned to her, Harleen's entire being told her to run.

She did.

Harleen locked the door and pushed everything she could find to block the path. She pleaded for him to calm down, that he was scaring her. He kept pounding on the door, telling her how much he loved her and that he'd die if she wouldn't let him in.

Harleen buried herself under her blankets, biting back her tears. She was never a believer but she would pray to anyone right now to make everything only an awful dream.

The house went dead quiet for a moment.

A gun shot rang out.

Before Harleen had time to react, her father was already yanking out the door and pushing through everything she set up, mocking her desperate attempts.

He climbed on her bed, pinning her down. She started screaming and struggling frantically. This monster couldn't be her father. She cried and begged, fighting back in vain with teeth and nails. Fingers digging in everywhere she could reach, leaving blood and nails on their paths. Until a fist collided with her head and her father forced the gun in her mouth...

That night, at 14 years of age, Harleen learned the definition of a real demon.

He ripped her in half.

He tore her apart.

Each thrust sent paralyzing hurt and agony through her little body and her innocent heart...

She prayed to God, to her mother, her brother to let darkness claim her entirely, not being shoved back and forth from emptiness to utmost frenzy and searing pain. _Let it end! Let everything end!_ She'd give away her sanity just for a chance to feel nothing at all. Hell, she'd give away ANYTHING just to DIE right here and now.

Her father's finger never left the trigger.

Somewhere, somehow, something deep within kept reminding her how badly she wanted to live.

 _For what?_

She didn't know what else was left to live for.

 **If this was love than she would never again want it.**

But Harleen wanted to live, dear fucking God how bad she wanted to live! She was begging for an end, but more so she was begging for a chance to live. She wanted to run and never look back. She'd painted herself another life and a future she could have. If was a cruel hope but she didn't care. She wanted to live, to truly live and for once have the taste true freedom. Not like this. No. It couldn't be just like this...

She wanted to live.

She was breaking. She was drowning. But she wanted to live.

She wanted to live...

.

 _"Time for one more daring dream_

 _Before her escape, edenbeam..."_

.

And Harleen stayed good at being good.

She remained a straight-A student, dressed as nicely as she could, she let her blonde hair fall past her shoulders,...

She told people her limping walk was a result of gymnastic practicing. She occasionally agreed to go out with boys she didn't even like, she talked movies and beauty with girls she had nothing in common, so no one would care to notice her differences. She stayed a school as late as she was allowed not because of her grades but because of what awaited, at home.

She'd carried on. Because she was good.

On the day of her departure to boarding school - which she had earned with a gymnastic scholarship, they told Harleen father was killed. It seemed to be the same reason that had killed her mother and brother.

Harleen'd been a good girl, and she was free now.

She was supposed to be free.

She didn't even attend his funeral, people thought the loss was too much for her to bear. Little did they know they should save their condolences for something else.

Harleen didn't cry. In fact, she couldn't cry at all for many years after that.

Until **him**.

.

 _"We killed with her own loving heart."_

 _._

Because they always preached how everyone deserved a chance to be saved, no matter how bad they were or how badly treated they'd been.

So she made it her job - as psychiatrist to find out and guide them through.

Or at least, those were things she kept reminding herself.

Because she was good.

The hidden truth, however, was that the patients made her the one granting favors and clearing minds, saving souls.

More powerful.

Being among those people made her feel less alone, less of an outcast.

Less damaged.

But, Harleen's deepest desire, one she didn't even notice was present, was something else.

Yes, she fed on pain from others' and hunted for fears that could scare off and crush away her past. Until everything her father'd done, everything that'd been haunting her would disappear like had never even existed.

The search was exhilarating, thrilling, over-whelming...! Her senses on high alert and her mind intensely functioned. Each passing day and case she took, she was on fire with hope to finally find the one.

Someone who could show her she'd seen nothing yet and that there could be bigger, crueler, darker demons out there.

So far, nothing and no one had been able to fulfill her desire.

To fill her emptiness, her void.

.

 _"In this cruel children's game_

 _There's no friend to call her name..."_

 _._

Until him.

The Joker was like nothing else and no one could ever be like him.

His darkness showed no end and his mind held endless depth of chaos. He was a ruthless criminal, a killer and a sociopath. But how could any of that matter? He made her feel more alive than she'd ever been her entire miserable life. He wasn't like those people who did shits in the name of love or goodness of their own lies. The moment they met, Harleen was slowly stripped off her mask and pretenses. The Joker brought out her true potential and many other things locked deep within.

She wasn't curing him, he was saving her.

He silenced her demons with his present alone.

He called for her with his eyes and pulled at her with his voice, until Harleen was kissing the ground he walked on. He became the sanctuary of her very own insanity, and before she knew it she needed him like air.

When he finally reached out, all at once her body and soul was bared for him to take.

Oh such a naive hypocrite Harleen had been. She craved danger yet she wanted to be a saint. She longed for affection yet she yearned for pain. No wonder she welcomed the electricity he shot through her brain like the most endearing gift.

So this time, Harleen got to choose the pain for herself.

Because the Joker - this beautiful devil was her savior and her heart's desire - a desire like nothing before. Her heart now beat for him and her existence, her laugh, her cries, her everything belonged to him.

She wanted to live - for him.

If this was love then hell yes she wanted it. Because she loved him.

She loved him. She loved him. She loved him.

Unconditionally. Blindly. Madly.

 **She loved him!**

She took the oath and fell without a second thought. She drowned her past and stripped her skin. She bashed her mind to pieces and came up with a new soul, whole and free and wild like nothing else.

If hell was here then the Joker would be the king that ruled above all, and she was now his queen.

She was so good.

That night, she learned how to truly laugh.

Harleen Quinzel was dead.

Harley Quinn was born.

...


End file.
